In case you thought you missed it

Some people were trying to wish my husband happy birthday. In case you thought you missed it, you should know his actual birthday is today Monday August 27th! HOWEVER this year he declared that instead of a birthday week he was getting a 9 day birthday. So that means his birthday lasted from Friday the 24th until Saturday September 1st. That gives you a whole entire week to tell him happy birthday if you want! Yeah, I’ve never claimed my husband wasn’t spoiled. Also during his birthday week we have to do whatever he wants. This means that Friday he got to do an extra soft ball game and pick his after game snack, Saturday we had to wake up and go to breakfast, then go to a SuperBad guy movie, then go to a wing place for lunch. Then I had to make him his requested dinner since the sushi place he wanted to go was closed. Then I had to take him to the club and hang out and I HAD TO HAVE FUN! It also meant I couldn’t complain when he wanted me to take him to Jack in the Box at 2:40am for tacos. I couldn’t say anything when Rob, Lisa and Ginger were in the back seat shouting about tacos as if they were the funniest thing ever and saying over and over we want 62 tacos, 14 with light lettuce, 6 with no cheese, 4 with some meat, 5 of the ones with light lettuce have no tomatoes (none of this seemed funny to me at 3am). I bet it was really funny when we pulled up to the drive thru and Bernard waited until right when the window was rolled down to shout SUCK MY BALLLS, SUCK MY BALLS! There was also some sort of argument about who was buying the tacos because somehow Ginger only spent like $15.00 the whole night while the rest of us spent at the least $100.00. So then I had to hear Rob and Lisa trying to shout over Ginger, SHUT UP GINGER YOUR BUYING TACOS, WHATEVER GINGERS BUYING TACOS, TACOS GINGER WHATEVER GINGER TACOS! For the drive thru finale my cousin ordered just for her and Bernard, 8 tacos, 1 crispy chicken, 1- bacon double cheeseburger and a small fry then shouted at the cashier she needed more sauce MORE SAUCE MOOOREEEE SAUCE (for the record all that was eaten was the chicken sandwich since her husband was to busy puking to eat). It also meant I couldn’t complain when he didn’t get all his tacos (but Lisa got 8 somehow) and at 3:04am I had to take him to Jack in the Box a second time for 4 more tacos. And I really couldn’t complain when he passed out on the way home and never ate the damn tacos. I couldn’t complain either when we got home and Rob demanded Tylenol. Then got all upset because I had brought him rapid release Tylenol and not regular Tylenol! But most important, I couldn’t even complain when he let out two of the longest, stinkiest beer farts ever! Then Sunday morning (noonthirty) when Rob finally dragged his ass out of bed I had to go to Truckee with him so he could get KFC (NV KFC’s don’t have hot wings on the menu). Don’t worry he only ordered 42 fucking hot wings! I couldn’t even complain when he wanted to eat his hot wings again for dinner either.

So now the big weekend is over and Lord only knows what kind of demands the shit head has in store for the remainder of his birthday week (9 days)! Also, I was kindly informed that this year on my birthday I could have the full day and have control of the remote for “most” of the day, and he would maybe think about not farting near me. He is such a gentlemen!

On a side note Lisa I wasn’t sure you heard that Amber and Reggie broke up! Annnnd seriously people just to give you guys an idea of what I was hanging out with on Saturday night, my OLDER cousin took a shot of copper camel (dude sweetest easiest shot ever) and spent the next five minutes IN PUBLIC IN A VERY NICE PLACE wiping off her tongue with a fucking paper napkin! Damn we are a classy bunch!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE!

Do you remember those nights where you went out and got totally wasted and then laughed at yourself the whole time thinking about how totally awesome you are! Well last night was just like that only I was dead sober so I got to realize exactly how “AWESOME” my friends are!!!
The night started out so well and so cute! (Bernard wanted me to tell you all that the head band really made the whole outfit come together…he made sure to tell me this 43 different times in the night)


We look soooo cute!


Corny pregnant pic


Bernard says it isn’t easy looking hard when your wearing a pink shirt


Can you tell which people in the house were drunk before we even left? If only I had zoomed in on how many times Lisa dumped Pink drink on her shirt!


Trying to look normal


The start of the night…Looking too cool for school


Known em since 5th grade..We are still dorky


At this point Rob is hot and takes off his shirt…Also the red is starting to come in to play….FYI when Robs face gets red he is getting drunk!


The guys looking dorky!


Notice Ginger is beginging to get redder.


Dear Mandy! In case you are wondering how to tell when Lisa is mad…Give her at least five drinks, look at her wrong, have her husband mention something about gray hair and then HELLO welcome to MEAN NASTY LISA!!! She came out for about an hour last night giving us all nasty dirty looks and shooting us down with her death rays. Then we devised a super duper plan, we would pump her full of more liquor and all was well!


Could some one please give my husband some visene…He is clearly ultra drunk now!


So drunk in fact, that as we were taking this picture he was swearing up and down that THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE CUTEST PICTURE EVER! Again people notice the red eyes! (around this time in the night Bernard started jumping up during random bad (bad says Bernard) songs, and putting his hand on my belly asking if Codi was moving. When I replied no Bernard would say good, your kid better not like this kind of music) So fucking random! This was also about the time Rob dragged me onto the dance floor (yeah lets see white girl, who is sober with a giant belly, can you guess how HOT my rhythm was, no really just guess how rockin I was, my favorite part was when I kept bumping into Rob and random people with my belly) anyway he gets all sentimental and grabs my belly on the dance floor and declares “I just love your pregnant belly babe, I really do, It’s so sexy, I love you and your belly so much.” (Sign number three you know when my husband is drunk, he starts overly declaring his love for me, and also trying to publicly make out with me!)


The guy on the left didn’t want to smile


Then I kindly explained to him that the pregnant lady with the camera doesn’t take no for an answer!


I guess they are trying to say 313 which is someones area code or something….They practiced this for about 4 minutes before picture time! Also the guy in the middle, Tim, he totally does not know the rules to hanging out with Shannon AND WOULD NOT STOP FUCKING TOUCHING ME! Seriously he rubbed my shoulders and tried to hug me at least 4 damn times and was nearly crying about how thankful he was for the damn baseball tickets from the week before. He obviously doesn’t know that you don’t touch Shannon if you want to live!


The very first ever picture taken of me and Bernard..He thought this was a HUGE deal! It left him declaring for the rest of the night that this was the best picture taken in the history of man and that the whole world was going to be like DUDE ITS BERNARD AND SHANNON!!!! (background, until about a year ago Bernard and I were mortal enemies and usually just said mean horrible things to each other while kicking and punching each other, hence this photo being historic or something)


So Lisa’s husband hates this guy I used to date because he was a piece of shit scumbag. Anyway This guy used to always give thumbs up and it would piss Bernard off soooooo bad. At this point in the night Rob and Lisa were super trashed and thought making thumbs up was THE FUNNIEST THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD!


Still funny I guess (at this point Bernard was soooo mad at them he said maybe they should just go live together and have babies with stupid thumbs)!


Bordering on hilarious in their minds (at this point I was actually laughing so hard my belly was shaking and Bernard would freak out thinking I was hurting the baby and tell me that I had to stop laughing before I jiggled the baby out!)


Really pushing their luck!


Bernard was sooo pissed he tried to punch Rob about 4 different times (nooooo they weren’t drunk at all hmmm)

One more for the road!

MEN AND BASEBALL

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LET YOUR HUSBAND GO TO SAN FRANCISCO FOR A DAY WITH THIS FRIENDS FOR AN EARLY BIRTHDAY PRESENT, ARMED WITH TONS OF ALCOHOL AND A CAMERA?????


HEY LOOOK AT ME I’M DRUNK (AND THAT GUY BEHIND ME IS SLEEPING) WOOOOOOOO


LOOK I’M STILL DRINK (AND THAT OTHER GUY BEHIND ME IS PASSED OUT TOO)

YEAH WERE SO AWESOME…WE CAME HOME WITH NOT A SINGLE PICTURE OF THE GAME BUT PLENTY OF PICTURES OF ME BEING AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!
(THE GUY ON THE RIGHT THATS MY COUSIN LISA’S HUSBAND)

Men I would cheat on my husband with!!!

  1. Ben and or Jerry- No explanation needed right ladies
  2. Emeril- Duh, this man would rock my world
  3. Dr. Rey-Lets see, have a couple babies then get boob lift, tummy tuck and thigh lift YES PLEASE
  4. Duncan Hines- I mean really, why not!
  5. The guy who owns the bagel shop down the street- Free bagels for life…Rob who?
  6. Any one of the Keebler elves- Little isn’t so bad when they come with free cookies
  7. Steve Madden- Because I really need new sexy shoes
  8. Ronald McDonald- McFlurry for breakfast YES PLEASE
  9. Chester Cheeto- Sure why not let my sugar daddy support my sons Cheeto habit
  10. A fishin boat captain- So I could stop paying for my husbands sushi habit!

Common mistakes I make

I make a lot of stupid mistakes while I type. I decided to point a few of them out to you so if you see them you know I’m not retarded I just make mistakes a lot.

  • A lot of times you will see my sentence end with a 1. This isn’t supposed to be there. That means my pinky finger got a little lazy with the shift key and I didn’t hold it down enough to succeed in placing a (!) point there.
  • That’s werid. I do that one a bout a thousand times a day. No matter how many times I go back and retype it I can never seem to spell werid (see) werid (again see) weird the right way. I guess maybe this is just because I’m kind of werid!
  • I type oyu instead of you. Why I do this I DON’T KNOW!
  • I often start a new word before I finish my last. IE I would typel ike this
  • I type the first letter of the spelling of a number instead of a number. This means you often see, I have f apples instead of 5. I also do this often with n for 9. I do the reverse too with 9. Often I write this is 9eat!
  • I have had to actually concentrate and go back and edit to make all my damn I’s capitalized.
  • I don’t know how to spell definitaly to save my life. Definitly? Defiinetly? Dammit how do you spell this fucking word! The worst part is I’m usually so far off spell check doesn’t even know how to help me.

So there oyu (seee!!!!) I really am a moron disguised as a functioning adult with major help from spell check.

Brown so doesn’t blend with cream

So back to the potty training bit. We’ve got the whole pee pee in the potty thing down great! Now, NOW if only I could get my son to stop pooping in his undies then pulling his shorts off and flinging tiny balls of poop ALL OVER MY DAMN HOUSE!!!!!!! He totally gets that the poopoo goes in the toilet, and he tries to carry it in there after he does it and most mornings he will actually go sit in there for a good ten minutes and take a dump. However it is the six o’clock at night poop we are having the problem with. This is when he’s far to busy playing to stop and poop so he just poops while playing. This also means that if he does try and make it to the bathroom mid poop the entire bathroom will then be smeared with poop. You can see which side of the toilet seat he climbed up on, which side of the bath he leaned on, where on the bathroom rug he sat down and so on. Yeah I do a lot of washing now!

ALSO! When he has to pee now he simply pulls down his pants and runs to the bathroom. SOOOOOO that means when I’m at Old Navy shopping with him and he does this in front of three very snobby women and then takes off running across Old Navy with his dangle flopping about everywhere I get a few dirty looks. But what it really means, is the third time he does this in the same Old Navy trips I get more then a few dirty looks and also cause one little boy to ask his mommy why that little boy gets to be naked and he doesn’t! Lovely!

Finally. How do I get him to stop exclaiming Mommy Poopoo every time I go potty. It isn’t so bad unless we are at the store and he announces in a public restroom, mommy poopoo followed by me flushing and him saying bye bye poopoo bye bye…mommy did it, mommy poopoo toilet. Yeah any assvice you can give me on how to make him stop doing that would be great. Duct tape perhaps?

Why I blog!

Since I’ve been blogging I’ve come across the question, “Why do you blog?” I’ve never really known how to answer that. I blogged out of boredom, to be funny, to show off my son and so on.

Until yesterday I never had a real heart felt answer to that. When I started blogging the first people I shared it with, were the real people in my life. My moms response was to grammar check it and then tell me that I shouldn’t have said the things I said about myself because it could cause me to have a bad image. She was off the list. The first time my friends read it they didn’t get it and told me I was strange. They were off the list. The first time my uncle read it, he waged world war three on me because of this post. He was off the list. I had a few readers but I really wanted more. I didn’t know how to get them so I just kept writing what was on my mind, and reading other blogs and commenting.

Yesterday I wrote this post. I had a dream that I put my unborn child in an oven. Rather then being any kind of logical I immediately thought I had just predicted my childs death and cremation. YES I’m all kinds of crazy I know. The first thing I did after that dream was write about it. I wrote about the dream, and also how I had been secretly fearing my child would die all along. I finally dragged myself out of the house and went to work. My mind was in a horrible place. I was ready to call my doctor and began wondering if I should be medicated to make me stop freaking out. Finally at work I broke down. I told my my and the other girl in my office. Their response was that I needed to stop stressing so I didn’t hurt the baby. Then they said I couldn’t think that way or the baby would think I didn’t want him. Mmmhmm that is just what I wanted to hear. I turned away from them and checked my email. The first thing I found were reassuring comments from my blog friends. Then next thing I found was a comment from Patty. This woman I had never even meant before took the time to not only reply to me, not only reassure me, but to actually Google my dream and explain it to me. I was stunned. I mean yeah I had spent time Googling things for blogger friends before, but I never expected someone to say just the right thing at just the right time for me. As the day wore on I received e-mails and comments galore. What stood out to me though was that not one of them said what I was feeling was wrong or bad. In fact everyone just said, they understood, it was okay. They showed me the rational side, they made me laugh, they agreed and sympathized and so on. By the end of the day I felt like these people who had never met me had come together and picked me up in a giant hug and carried me around in their love all day.

So you ask why I blog. Here is why:
Because no matter what at any point of the day there will always be,

  • One person to comment and say what you feel is right
  • One person to say that everything is going to be fine
  • One person to show you the rational side of things
  • One person to laugh with you
  • One person to help you figure out what needs figuring out
  • One person to offer a hug
  • One person to explain things to your dumb ass
  • One person who can relate
  • One person to empathize
  • One person to sympathize
  • One person to make you laugh
  • One person who did it worse then you
  • One person who tells you no matter what you write, they still love you.

This is why I blog. You may have all of these people in your life right now but how often do you have them all there at the drop of a hat saying all those things at once and reassuring you immediately? I blog because yesterday the people who read me talked me down off a wobbly ledge and let me know, it was okay to feel this way, but also let me know, theres light at the end of the tunnel. Now rather then feeling like I need to be sedated to cope with the future loss of my son, I simply feel like, well, every little thing is gonna be alright!

I blog becuase I know that if tomorrow I want to write about a huge pimple on my ass I can and I will get the following responses:

  • 5 People with a bigger pimple on their ass then me
  • 2 people who have two pimples on their ass
  • 3 people with the perfect potion for getting pimples off your ass
  • 4 people with tips on how to squish a pimple on your ass
  • 7 people who will laugh about the pimple on my ass
  • 6 people to let me know a pimple on my ass is small considering I’m about to have a beautiful little boy
  • and 10 people who want to see a picture of the pimple on my ass.

What I won’t get is a single comment telling me it’s wrong to write about my ass pussiness, a single comment telling me it was gross or inappropriate and I really won’t get any comment that isn’t simply full of love.

So this is why I blog. I blog because now I know, that no matter what I have this whole web connection to people who are willing to pick me up and hug me at a moments notice.

So for those of you who just started out, or who have been blogging for a while and maybe you aren’t getting the comment load you want, just wait, some day when you need them most, the comments will come flooding in and it will all make sense.

And also::::
NO I don’t have a pimple on my ass, and no you can’t see it, and you over there..yeah you, please stop dreaming about my yummy pimple covered bright white cottage cheese ass….these goodies are reserved for my husband baby!

MIND FUCKED

I had a dream last night. I’m going to tell as much of it as I can remember first then I’ll tell you my totally fucked up way of interpreting it.

In this dream I was holding a little baby. I had the oven preheated and for reasons I can not remember for the life of me I had to put my child in the oven. Something in the dream kept telling me it was best and it was the right thing to do. So I pulled out the oven rack and put my little baby on the rack and he started screaming from pain and wiggling and I had to shove him in and close it real fast. I walked away and went into the bedroom with Rob to sit and wait. I was relieved the baby wasn’t crying but then right when I started feeling relief we heard screams. Rob went to get the baby and I kept pleading with him that it was what we had to do, we had to leave him there, even though the whole time I wanted him out. It right at this time that I woke up thinking what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

My first thought was that it was Brandon. But then I realized this may have been my very first dream about Codi. I’m mad now that I couldn’t make my mind look more at the baby so I could see if it was Codi. What really upsets me about this dream aside from the sheer horror of it that won’t go away, is how I interpreted it. Since I went to the hospital I kept feeling like I am going to lose Codi. Either before he’s born or right after, like shortly after. Now I’m wondering if this wasn’t my bodies way of agreeing with me and if the oven didn’t symbolize me having to cremate my little son. I have always had major issues with cremation because my dad was cremated. Because of that I kept having these horrible visuals of burning the body of someone you love. I always freaked out until I had a kid. Then I knew I could never bury my son if he died because he needed to still be at home with me as that was all he had known. I knew also that if I were to lose Codi now, I would do the same. So now, all I can think is it was a premonition of sorts telling me I’m going to have to cremate this child and I’M LOSING MY FUCKING MIND PEOPLE. I feel as if him screaming and us wanting him out is because we didn’t want to let him go and believe he was gone but I knew in the end we had to do it because it was the better place. The problem is that now I’m stuck with images of my screaming child in the fucking oven and I can’t get them out of my mind. I don’t even have to close my eyes they are just floating there in front of me.

I just want this to go away. I hate this dream. Why would I have such a horrific dream if it wasn’t meant to symbolize anything? I have so many other things that are happening that keep telling me I won’t have this kid, like he hasn’t hiccuped yet. Brandon hiccuped at least 5-6 times a day. All I keep thinking is the lack of hiccups mean my baby isn’t even trying to learn to breath.

Seriously people, I never entirely let you in on my crazy but dude….this is a shit storm of crazy and I just want it gone. The worst part is my husband was out of town and I couldn’t even wake up and tell him!